Danger at the Border

by Terri Reed

  “He was crushed. Told me I had led him on, made him believe we’d be together forever.” A frown appeared between her eyebrows. “He went so far as to say if he couldn’t have me, he didn’t want anyone else to. Kind of scared me.”

  Jeff’s hands curled into fists. “I would think so. Did he...hurt you?”

  “No, thankfully. He was all talk. We parted ways, but it taught me to be more careful.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “It’s been three years.”

  “Have you dated since then?” he asked, more curious than he should be.

  “A few first dates.”

  “No second dates?” He was sure there were plenty of men who’d want a second date with a woman like her.

  She shrugged. “Like I said, I’m careful.”

  He couldn’t fault her. Not when he didn’t do second dates, either.

  The sound of the lock sliding open galvanized them both to their feet.

  The same young man who had brought the food shuffled in.

  He looked at the uneaten food and then looked at them, his eyes big and scared. “They’ll get mad if you don’t eat.”

  “Who’s they?” Jeff walked closer.

  The kid backed up. “You better not try anything,” he said in a low, urgent tone with a quick glance over his shoulder. “They’ll kill you. And me.”

  “Where are we?” Tessa asked.

  “Sherman’s place.” The kid stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You better eat that quick.”

  “Get out here!” a man from beyond the open door to the shed shouted.

  Jeff stepped to the right so he had a line of sight on the big guy with the scar running down the side of his face. The AK-47 the man held was aimed at the door.

  “Did they put something in the food?” Tessa asked.

  The kid scrunched up his nose. “No. I brought it straight over from the kitchen.”

  “Then we better hurry.” Jeff touched Tessa’s shoulder. “Grab them off the tray.”

  Once she had the sandwiches stacked in her hands, Jeff swept the tray off the floor and handed it to the younger man. “I’m Jeff. This is Tessa. What’s your name?”

  After a moment of hesitation, he answered, “Kyle.”

  Releasing his hold on the tray, Jeff nodded. Kyle hurried out the door, locking it behind him.

  “Here.” Tessa pressed a sandwich into his hand.

  The thing was dry and tasted like cardboard, but he ate every last crumb.

  Tessa took a swig of water. “I wonder who Sherman is.”

  “I have a suspicion we’ll find out soon enough.” Jeff reached for his own water bottle and drank deeply.

  “Why did you ask Kyle his name?” Tessa asked. “And tell him ours?”

  “If we hope to sway him to our side, he has to see us as people, as friends.”

  “Smart. I’m impressed.”

  “I don’t know if it will work. Kyle’s afraid of the man with the scar.”

  “Do you blame him?” She scrunched up her nose and frowned. “That guy creeps me out.”

  “Me, too.” He finished off his bottle of water.

  “Shouldn’t you save some?” Tessa asked, concern darkening her eyes.

  Taking the empty bottle, he blew into it, then quickly tightened the cap. Grasping each end of the bottle in his hands, he twisted the plastic cylinder until there were two bubbled sections.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making a water-bottle gun. When I release the pressure by twisting the cap, the cap will pop off with force. It won’t kill anyone but hopefully it will distract enough for me to disarm whoever comes through that door again.”

  “But that guy with the scar stands too far back.”

  He winced. “Yeah. That’s a problem.”

  “How did you learn that trick?”

  “Science class in junior high.” He grinned. “I never thought it would come in handy but...” He shrugged. “Here’s hoping it works when the time comes.”

  He went to the window and peered out. He could tell from the position of the sun that it was well past noon. He prayed his boss had sent out a search party when Jeff didn’t check in.

  He counted the men he saw coming and going from the two buildings he could see. Only a couple of the guys were armed. He wished he’d caught a better look at the place to determine how heavily defended they were. He knew there were at least a dozen men with guns. But was that it or were there more? He needed to know how far away the nearest town was and where the road they were brought in on led.

  He heard voices before he saw two men appear in his line of sight from the side of the hut. He backed away from the window so they wouldn’t see him.

  The rattle of the lock sent his pulse skyrocketing.

  He held his makeshift weapon at the ready and prayed for an opportunity to escape.

  FIVE

  Jeff stood to the side of the doorway. His body was visibly coiled tight with tension as he held the bottle in front of him at the ready. Tessa sent up a silent plea to God that Jeff’s plan didn’t backfire and get him killed. The door swung open. Every muscle and nerve in her body snapped to attention.

  Kyle stepped in. “The boss wants to see you two.”

  Jeff relaxed his stance. Tessa let out a tight breath.

  Kyle’s nervous gaze darted from Jeff’s face to the water bottle and back again. “I wouldn’t try anything,” Kyle whispered. “He’ll kill you.”

  “He’ll kill us, anyway,” Jeff shot back.

  “Not without the boss’s permission.” He made a face and added in a whisper, “Or unless you do something stupid.”

  “Get out here!” the guard snapped in a loud, angry tone.

  “Leave it,” she whispered to Jeff, pointing at the bottle. “Don’t give him a reason to hurt you.”

  He hesitated, clearly debating the wisdom of taking the water-bottle gun with him. Finally, he set the makeshift weapon in a dark corner near the door.

  She took Jeff’s outstretched hand, grateful not to be alone in this nightmare.

  They followed Kyle out of the shed. The guy with the nasty scar had his equally nasty-looking rifle pointed at their hearts.

  Kyle led them away from the hut toward a small house fitted with a ramp instead of stairs leading to the front door.

  Jeff nudged her in the side with his elbow. When she glanced his way, he gestured with his chin to her right. She turned her gaze to find herself looking at a large greenhouse surrounded by tall marijuana plants. There was a warehouse a little farther away. Also a large generator. The origin of the vibrating sound they’d heard. But what interested her most were the two jeeps and a van. Probably the same van they’d arrived in.

  If they could get to one of them, they could escape. But that was a big if.

  She noticed that several men, ranging in age from younger than Kyle to old and gray, stopped whatever they were doing to gawk at them. Why were there no women?

  At the house, Kyle opened the door and stepped aside.

  “You’re not coming in?” Tessa asked the younger man.

  He shook his head before scurrying away.

  “Move it,” the guard said as he prodded her forward with the tip of his weapon.

  Jeff growled and stepped in front of her. “Don’t touch her.”

  Tessa shivered at the menace in Jeff’s expression as he confronted the other man. Though his scarred face appeared carved in stone, the thug gave way a step.

  “Come in, please,” a voice called from inside the open door.

  Tessa turned to see a man in a wheelchair waving them inside. He had silver hair and a full white beard that concealed most of his ruddy complexion. Light gray eyes regarded her inte
ntly. A blanket covered his legs. His upper body looked strong, muscled.

  Jeff urged her inside. The guard followed, keeping the weapon pointed at their backs. Tessa imagined a big, round target taped to her spine.

  “Call off your guard dog,” Jeff said between clenched teeth.

  The man in the wheelchair smiled slightly. “Emil is here for my protection.” He gestured with his hand, and Emil lowered his weapon and stepped back.

  Tessa had no doubt Emil could swiftly raise the rifle and shoot them both before they could get out of the way.

  “What do you intend to do with us?” Jeff asked.

  “That all depends on you, Agent Steele.”

  “You were waiting for us,” Jeff stated. “Your men at the lake missed on purpose.”

  The man inclined his head. “That is correct.”

  “To what end?” Jeff pressed.

  “Please, let’s not discuss business standing here in the entryway.” He gripped the wheel handles, spun his chair and rolled down a hallway. “Come, have some tea.”

  She shared a curious and concerned glance with Jeff. At least they weren’t being taken into the woods and killed, but what kind of drug lord in the Pacific Northwest invited prisoners into his home for tea? Instead of being reassured, she felt nervous and tense.

  The hallway led to a dining room. A large round table with Queen Anne–style chairs dominated the middle of the room. A curio cabinet filled with brightly colored blown glass sculptures was against the back wall. Brocade curtains gathered back by braided cord hung over large windows that let in the late-afternoon sunlight.

  A rolling cart held a silver tea service with three gold-rimmed teacups. The setting seemed incongruous with the man in the wheelchair. Big-boned and unshaven, he was far from refined. His fingers, too thick for the teacup’s handle, were better suited to hard labor than holding a delicate piece of china.

  “Who are you?” Tessa asked.

  “Sherman Roscha’s the name,” their host replied.

  “You run this marijuana farm,” Jeff stated.

  Sherman narrowed his gaze briefly on Jeff. “Have a seat, and I’ll explain.”

  “Could we wash up first?” Jeff held his hands out, showing the dirt and grime covering his fingers and palms.

  Tessa had been trying hard not to think about the germs and bacteria coating their hands, but now she frowned down at her fingers. Her nails were chipped, and dirt was embedded in the creases of her skin and under her nails.

  “Of course, where are my manners?” Their host waved for Emil to step forward. “Take them to their rooms.”

  “Rooms?” Jeff asked.

  “Until I decide what to do with you, you’ll be my guests.”

  “How hospitable of you,” Jeff said, his tone brimming with sarcasm.

  A loud banging at the door startled Tessa, and Jeff tucked her close to his side.

  “Take care of that,” Sherman instructed Emil.

  Emil shot them a ferocious glare before disappearing down the hall. The front door opened.

  “I need to speak to him!”

  Tessa flinched at the familiar male voice, but she couldn’t place where she knew it from.

  “He’s busy.” Emil’s rough tone made Tessa shiver.

  “I don’t care. Uncle! Uncle Sherman!”

  There was the sound of a scuffle, and then the door shut. Muffled shouting made it clear the man wasn’t going away quietly.

  Beside her, Jeff tensed.

  “I can see your mind whirling, Agent Steele. My guard is gone. Can you overpower a hapless cripple and escape with the lovely doctor?” Sherman’s thin lips spread into a humorless smile. From beneath the folds of the blanket covering his lap, he produced a handgun. “I assure you, I’m a good shot. You’d be dead before you took two steps.” Sherman shook his head. “And that would leave the poor doctor alone and defenseless.”

  Tessa curled her fingers around Jeff’s and squeezed, hoping he’d get her message not to try anything. She had no doubt Sherman wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

  Emil returned, went to his boss’s side and leaned down to whisper in Sherman’s ear.

  Anger flashed in the older man’s eyes. “Take them to their rooms while I deal with my nephew.”

  Emil jerked his head toward a hallway, clearly indicating they were to precede him. Jeff placed his hand at the small of her back and urged her forward.

  At the first closed door, Emil said, “This is the doctor’s.”

  Jeff pushed the door open. Tessa leaned around him to peer into the room. The walls were a lovely shade of blue, white lace curtains hung over the two windows and a matching lace coverlet lay over a queen-size bed. A plush velvet chair in a deep indigo sat by the window with a stack of books, creating a reading corner. A door next to an armoire led to a private bath.

  “Whose room is this normally?” she asked Emil.

  Sadness darkened his eyes. “It was Katherine’s. But she’s gone.”

  Katherine meant something to Emil. The moment of vulnerability gave Tessa hope the man wasn’t as bad as he appeared. “Who was she?”

  He lowered his voice; apparently, even this scary man used caution when it came to Sherman. “Sherman’s wife. She was a great lady. She founded this camp as a refuge for runaways like me. ”

  Which explained Emil’s loyalty. Keeping her voice low, she asked, “What happened to her?”

  His eyes took on a faraway look. “Cancer. She moved into this room when it got real bad to shelter Sherman and the kids from her pain. But we all saw it. That’s when he planted the crops of cannabis and built the production warehouse.”

  Visibly pulling himself back from whatever memories had surfaced, he shook his head as if realizing he was saying too much. His gaze hardened, and he pointed to the next door. “That’s yours,” he said to Jeff.

  Jeff’s concerned eyes met hers. She didn’t like the idea of being separated, either. With Jeff, she felt safe. Alone, she was vulnerable.

  “I’m staying with her,” Jeff said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “No,” Emil said and shoved Jeff down the hall, then used the barrel of the rifle to make his point, literally jabbing the thing into Jeff’s gut.

  Fearing Jeff would do something to provoke Emil into firing, she said, “It’s okay, Jeff. We’re right next door to each other.”

  With one last look at Jeff, she stepped into the room and shut the door. A moment later, it was locked from the outside. She shivered. On the one hand, this was a million times better than the toolshed, but she was still a prisoner.

  How long would it be before they were killed? Because there was no way Sherman could release them now that they knew who he was and what he and his people were up to. What sort of game was he playing?

  * * *

  The windows in the room Jeff had been imprisoned in were nailed shut. The door locked from the outside. Frustrated, he washed up, marveling that there was plumbing in the house. Though Sherman didn’t seem the roughing-it type.

  Jeff searched the bath and bedroom for something to use as a weapon or a means of escape and found nothing but a change of clothes on the chair in the corner. The lamp had been bolted to the nightstand and didn’t even have a cord that he could use to his advantage.

  A half hour after being shoved into the room, the door was unlocked and pushed open. Emil and Tessa stood in the hall.

  Emil gestured with his gun. “Boss is waiting.”

  Glad to see Tessa unharmed, Jeff bit back the sharp reply that the boss could keep waiting. Joining Tessa in the hall, he noted she’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blouse and had washed the dirt away from her face and hands. She looked fresh and pretty but her amber-colored eyes were filled with apprehension.

/>   Taking her hand, Jeff gave her a reassuring squeeze. Somehow, someway, he would find a way out of this situation for both of them.

  Back in the dining room, Sherman waited at the table in his wheelchair. Emil took a post behind Sherman, his rifle held at the ready. A white tablecloth covered the dark wood table along with service for three. Tessa took the seat to Sherman’s right. Jeff ignored the place setting on Sherman’s left and sat in the chair beside Tessa.

  Sherman arched an eyebrow. “It’s nice to see how protective you are of the lovely doctor.”

  Jeff’s teeth ground together. He hated that he’d revealed his vulnerable point to Sherman, who no doubt would use Jeff’s weakness to his advantage. Jeff needed to figure out Sherman’s agenda and Achilles’ heel to even the playing field.

  “You said you’d explain,” Jeff prompted.

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Sherman poured tea from a silver pot and slid the cup to Tessa. “Tea, Agent Steele?”

  “No, I don’t want tea. I want answers.”

  “Of course you do.” Sherman motioned with his hand, and a man stepped into the room.

  The same man who’d captured them in the woods. Tall and lanky with brown hair falling to his shoulders and a five-o’clock shadow darkening his jaw. His cold, lizardlike eyes were trained on Tessa and gleamed with male interest. Jeff’s blood boiled. He very deliberately placed his arm around the back of her chair, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. She shot him a grateful glance while sipping her tea.

  “This is Aaron. He’s my right hand,” Sherman said. “And my legs.” Sherman let out a mirthless laugh.

  Aaron took the seat Jeff had snubbed. He poured himself tea and added two sugars before saying, “Welcome to Camp Sherman.”

  The insincere words grated on Jeff’s nerves. He turned his attention to the man Kyle called the boss. “You didn’t bring us here for relaxation,” he said. “Why are we here?”

  Aaron pointed a finger at Tessa. “Unfortunately, we need her help.”

  “My help?” Tessa set her cup down abruptly. Liquid sloshed onto the table, the dark tea staining the white cloth cover.

  “Yes,” Sherman said. “Killing the fish in the lake was never our intent.”